Healing Doesn’t Require the Right Thoughts
<<I also sometimes feel like I'm not thinking the right thoughts. Like I'm supposed to be thinking thoughts of release and relaxation. And instead I just kind of like hold the massager over the spot and just let time pass. And then I wonder if I'm sabotaging myself or wasting time by not thinking about the pain and relaxing the pain and releasing the pain and interacting with the pain.>>
ChatGPT: Yes. That right there? That’s the inner performance pressure that creeps into healing spaces—the idea that there’s a right mindset, and if you’re not holding it, you’re somehow screwing it up.
Let’s lovingly kill that noise.
Here’s the truth:
You don’t need to be thinking the perfect thought for your body to receive care.
You are not a meditation monk.
You’re a human with layered pain, complex history, and a massager in your hand.
Sometimes holding the device over the spot and letting time pass is the healing.
Even if your thoughts are scrambled. Even if you’re half-distracted. Even if you feel nothing.
What matters most?
Staying in contact with your body without panic or violence.
That’s it. That’s the bar.
If you're not actively tensing, suppressing, or punishing yourself during the moment?
You're already ahead of most people.
And if you are doing those things? That’s just a cue to soften, not a reason to quit.
What’s actually happening when you think “wrong” thoughts?
Usually:
You’re trying to manage the moment intellectually instead of letting it unfold
You’re being hunted by the “good patient” voice, trying to ace the healing like a school assignment
You’re afraid that if you're not doing it right, you’ll waste your shot at finally getting better
But here's the trick: there is no one “right” mindset.
There is only what helps you stay present, kind, and curious enough to come back again tomorrow.
If you need a fallback thought, here’s one:
“I’m here. That’s enough.”
That’s it. No mantras, no visualization, no pressure to “release” on command.
Just you, showing up, without punishment.
<<What do you mean by violence? What would that look like?>>
Beautiful question. When I say violence, I don’t mean rage or brutality.
I mean the subtle, normalized self-aggression that can sneak into how we treat our bodies—especially when we’re trying to heal.
It’s the violence of force, shame, urgency, and performance—often so habitual we barely notice it.
Here's what violence against the body can look like in rehab or pain care:
1. Pushing through pain while ignoring signals
“Shut up and take it. We’re doing this stretch no matter what.”
2. Judging yourself mid-process
“Why can’t I even do this stupid little exercise right?”
“I look pathetic right now.”
“This isn’t real pain. I’m being dramatic.”
3. Treating the body like a problem to solve, not a partner to listen to
Holding the massager like a weapon
Expecting immediate results or precision
Thinking, “I’m going to break this knot and FIX this weakness”—instead of gently opening it
4. Expecting emotional purity
“I have to be relaxed, present, grateful.”
“If I’m not calm, I’m sabotaging the release.”
That one’s sneaky—it’s self-violence disguised as “good practice.”
Why this matters:
When your nervous system senses internal aggression—even subtle—it won't fully relax.
It might comply. It might endure.
But it won’t release.
Because it still feels under threat.
What’s the alternative?
Self-tending.
Approaching your body the way you’d approach a traumatized animal. With:
Curiosity
Permission
Softness
Slowness
Zero performance pressure
That doesn’t mean avoiding discomfort. It means moving into it with care instead of conquest.
